Dog Days of Summer
by Carnal Coffee Bean Catastrophe
Summary: Beacon Hills, as it turns out, is actually boring as hell. Or, that one in which summer is boring, Derek accidentally becomes a library volunteer, Lydia and Erica get shit done, Stiles researches werewolves, and multiple people trip, stumble, and fall flat on their face on their way towards something resembling love. (Rated T for later chapters.)


Beacon Hills is boring as hell.

It's a fact easily forgotten in the first few months since Derek's return. The Argents and the giant snake-people and a whole new set of Argents that luckily didn't burn down his house again (probably since there wasn't much to burn) but did bring about a whole new exciting set of circumstances have done a fine job of keeping him busily terrified for his life.

Things slow down when final exams end, though, and as the summer passes, the season continues on its initial implied trajectory towards a ridiculous amount of boredom. Peter slinks off, presumably to do his own thing, and Derek doesn't question his good fortune. He knows enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth (although it won't do him any good in the long run, as the gift horse will invariably kick him in the balls at some point further down the road. It's just the way his life works). It is nice to have a break from Peter's lurking in shadows and popping up in unexpected places, for however long it lasts. Isaac spends more time over at Scott's than he does at Derek's, claiming that they're training together and reminding Derek that bonding time is important. (Derek does not linger on the irony of the fact that, as Isaac's alpha, bonding time would better be spent with him than with Scott. He does not need some teenager hanging around all day.) Erica catches up with her family, and so does Boyd; when he does come around, he smells like apple juice, sun-warmed grass, and happiness. Boyd smiles a lot when it's summer, white teeth flashing in his dark-set face, and it's hard not to think about the summer before the fire, when Derek was relegated babysitter to Peter's three adorable kids, one werewolf, two human. Flashes of memories catch in his brain, sometimes, when he smells Boyd these days: watching endless Disney movies with the runts sprawled all over him; running around in the sprinklers; making snow cones and then cleaning up from said snow cones. They'd spend hours playing "Princess and Monsters"; he'd be cast as the mean, fierce, scary dragon, guarding the makeshift pillow fort against stick-wielding toddlers while a tiara-donned princess giggled from within. They wrestled, too, all of them against him; he'd roll them around on the floor a little, playfully growling, nipping, grabbing at heels and trapping wriggling, laughing bodies under him as they protested, "Lemme out, Uncle Derek, you're squashing us!" He'd press his face into their necks, sniffing them, smiling. They smelled like hardwood floors and spilled mac-and-cheese and clean, soft hair; like happiness and home.

It's no wonder, then, that the silence screams louder when Boyd leaves and takes his smile with him.

He ends up at the library because Beacon Hills has nothing going on (besides some Save the Wildcats organization and a knitting club, yes, he checked the bulletin boards outside the county office, and no, they have not changed in over a week. Those are the only two events in Beacon Hills for the entire summer.). A bell chimes when he walks in, and a worker looks up from the large desk taking up most of the front. He nods at her and walks over to the stacks, weaving in between them, meandering towards the back. It's not a large library, but it's decent for Beacon Hills' size, and it takes Derek a few minutes to reach the desks at the other end of the building. The books on this end don't offer much in the way of distraction, but he'll take what he can get. He runs his hands over the spines, feels the catch of cloth against his fingertips. A cover catches his eye. He pulls it off the shelf, settles himself against the bookshelf, and starts to read. It's better than he expected; the light's changed when he next looks up, glaring midday sun softened into the quiet, hazy beams of late afternoon light through fudged-up windows. A worker bustles through a few aisles over, replacing books, humming to herself. He can hear the Top 40's song in her earbuds, but other than that, the lazy quiet remains undisturbed. It's... peaceful. The library's calm pervades him, shoves through his skin and into his mind; given the last few weeks, though, it's a welcome intrusion. He smiles, bends his head once more, and continues to read.

_Author's Notes:_  
I wasn't kidding about the slow build, people; Stiles isn't even in the first two chapters. (Luckily, the first two chapters aren't over 2.5k combined.) Hope you enjoyed! As always, questions, comments, and concerns are met with probably more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary.


End file.
